


Glasses

by orphan_account



Category: Harvest Moon
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Groping, Locker Room, M/M, slight dubcon, warning: rod is kind of a creep in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allen drops his glasses one afternoon in the boy's locker room. Rod decides to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glasses

The men's changing room at Echo High was certainly a wonderful place to be. Although Rod would have preferred co-ed lockers (the more the merrier, right?), it served as a quick and easy fix for the kind of images his teenage brain wanted to see. Bare arms and legs and beautiful boys on display. The teasing contours of a pair of briefs, or a glimpse of bristly hair emerging from a waistband. It was consistently enthralling, especially given that Rod did not have any specific type. This made his discreet locker room gazing very easy, since he could silently devour any of his classmates without discretion wherever he looked as long as he kept his own groin out of view of everyone else.

  
To lay it out plainly and simply, Rod thought that everyone of all genders was hot, or at least had the potential to be. To make it easier for everyone else, he just called himself bisexual, or just generally 'open to suggestion'.

  
However, there was one person in the locker room, above all else, that his eye was always drawn to. He couldn't help himself, the boy was a work of art. With slim, angular hips, an ass that just wouldn't quit, and a mop of dark-reddish hair that Rod just wanted to run his fingers through all night, Allen was certainly quite a sight to behold. Unfortunately, he was also Rod's (straight) best friend, which made ogling him a tiny bit more taboo than it was for the others.

  
Still, there was no harm in taking a quick peek now and then. It was rare to see Allen without clothing after all, and the sight of black boxer-briefs taut against the other boy's pelvis was just too good to pass up.

  
Sometimes at night Rod would imagine what it might be like to actually touch Allen while he was like that—vulnerable, naked, without the layers of arrogance and confidence that he must be putting on during the day. Rod had seen that gentler side of him before, whenever he was around his mother and sister, though it had been hard to believe at first, coming from the Allen he knew.  
The only other times he'd seen Allen's vulnerable side was whenever his glasses were knocked off his face. Allen was legally blind and therefore helpless without them, couldn't walk a straight line without running into a wall. And though Rod knew he shouldn't be enjoying his friend's distress to such an extent, well...seeing Allen so unfocused and dependent on him was a rare treat, he'd leave it at that. It was nice to be the one in charge within their friendship once in a while.

  
But Rod supposed he would have to satisfy himself with a strict 'look, but don't touch' policy.

\----

This policy briefly changed for one afternoon. Gym class had been their last class of the day that Friday, so there was no pressure to hurry up and get out of the changing room before their next class—only the beautiful weekend awaited them. However, most of their class had not seemed to agree with this point of view, and had instead focused on getting out as quickly as they could. So the two boys were, for the most part, the last ones left in the locker room.

  
It happened when Rod was putting back on his shirt. A small, plastic 'clack' on the tiled floor, and a muffled noise of exasperation from Allen. Rod looked behind him.  
Right in the middle of changing, Allen's glasses had fallen onto the floor and he was now groping blindly around his surroundings in an effort to regain his sight. Despite himself, Rod's breath caught in his throat. Right in front of him was a half-blind Allen in his underwear who could, momentarily, no longer depend on his own senses.

  
Why, he was really going to need Rod's help if he wanted to find his glasses, considering how far his hands were from where they'd fallen. It was just the two of them there, after all.  
Rod silently thanked his 20/20 vision.

  
“Allen? Do you need help?” He hadn't initially meant to say anything, just look; but the words fell out of his mouth regardless.

  
“I, uh...” Allen trailed off, slapping his hand down onto an empty floor tile and then cursing in frustration when he felt nothing. “Yeah. A little, maybe.” He sounded embarrassed, which Rod supposed was only natural. Allen was usually not the sort to ask for help.

  
But Rod absolutely intended to milk this moment for all it was worth.

  
“Well, sit down, won't you? You're not gonna find them just flopping around on the ground!” With one hand on his back and the other at his chest (grabbing a handful of pec in the process), Rod hoisted Allen up onto one of the benches they had in the changing room; letting those hands linger just a little longer than necessary. God, this felt good.

  
In response, Allen only squinted up at Rod.

  
“Thanks.”

  
Rod was so glad right now that Allen was blind enough to not see the uncharacteristically wide grin on his face.

  
“Yeah, no problem! Lemme get that for you.”

  
Brushing his chest up just a little too close against Allen's naked back in the process, Rod moved over completely to Allen's side of the locker room. He knelt down, his face parallel with Allen's thighs. Rod couldn't entirely tell what color his leg hair was, but it definitely wasn't red, which was not surprising in the least. There had never been a person in the world who had accepted Allen as a natural redhead.

  
But there were other ways he could find that color out.

  
Allen's glasses, with their thick, black rims, were easy to locate against the dirty tiles. The boy must really have been blind as a bat in order not to see them there. He wondered just how someone could be so unable to tell colors or shapes apart, but at the moment it was working in his favor. Allen, whose eyes were currently two confused slits, had no way of knowing exactly what Rod was doing. This moment contained a lot of potential.

  
“Alright, I'm looking. What color are they, again?”

  
“Black, don't you know that already? You see me every day.” Well, it wasn't as if Rod was constantly looking up at Allen's eyes. They were hardly his best feature.

  
Rod stretched his body out, still on his hands and knees, and moved his face dangerously close to Allen's crotch.

  
“Are they black? I thought more like a dark brown.” This was his chance, to see what was normally the stuff of dreams. Allen would be none the wiser as to where he was looking. Plus, he really did want to find out what Allen's natural hair color was.

  
“No, they're black.”

  
“Oh...what d'you know, then. Hey, did you check the bench to see if they fell there instead of on the floor?”

  
Allen's hands began feeling around the surface of the bench he was sitting on. “No, but I--”

  
“Shh,” Rod put a single finger to Allen's lips. Wow, they were soft. “Let me handle it.”

  
He was sure Allen had some more objections to just sitting back and letting him take care of the search, but Rod wasn't about to hear those. As he pressed his palm down into Allen's thigh for leverage onto the bench, he heard a small gasp emit from the other boy.

  
“W-what are you doing?”

  
“Just looking! But they're not over this way, I don't think.”

  
Rod crawled onto the bench next to Allen, and then abruptly turned to 'check' the other side, sprawling across Allen's legs. He could feel a shiver beneath him as clothes met skin.  
“Rod?”

  
“Just checking to see if the glasses are on the other side of the bench, no big deal!”

  
They weren't, of course, but Allen didn't have to know that. Rod rubbed a leg up against Allen's, and felt a twitch in response.

  
Now was his one chance to properly get up close and personal with Allen's crotch and answer a couple questions, as vulgar as it sounded. Rod moved his head down to be on level with the bulge in Allen's underwear. He wasn't going to do anything—Allen would notice that—this was just looking.

  
Slowly, he turned his head to get a peek at the goods. Just as he had suspected, there was a small collection of hair escaping those amazing black boxer-briefs. The archetypical happy trail. It was dark (Rod mentally ruled out a blonde Allen with some grumpiness), but just how dark? The world needed to know.

  
Rod inched closer to Allen's abdomen, hoping to receive a more intimate profile of his hair color. He spared a quick glance upwards to see if he had been detected, but Allen was still only looking ahead; eyes darting blankly around the locker room that he could not currently see. So he continued, moving just close enough so that if he'd stuck out his tongue he could have just reached the other boy with its tip.

  
There it was in all its glory—hair as dark as the night sky. Allen's hair was naturally black, it seemed. Rod smiled at the thought. Why would you ever dye a color that beautiful? He supposed red was more interesting, to be fair.

  
“Nope, not there either!”

  
Retracting his body ass-first, Rod slowly descended from the prime real estate of Allen's legs.

  
“Let me look back down on the floor again”.

  
“Okay...you sure you—”

  
Rod cupped Allen's face affectionately. “Just relax, man, I'll find your glasses!”

  
Back to the floor. Rod supposed it was about time he ended this charade and restored poor Allen's eyesight from where it was so obviously lying.

  
Standing now, he bent over and picked up the glasses. If Allen had been able to see, he would have been privy to a very provocative view of Rod's rear end.  
With a gentle motion, he pushed them back onto Allen's face—their lips inches apart.

  
“There you go, Allen.” Rod squeezed his friend's shoulder as one last victory.

  
“...thanks.”

  
They stood there, face-to-face. Rod knew that Allen could now actually see him grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care.

  
“Uh, Rod, I need to get changed.”

  
“Right, okay, sure! No problem!”

  
Black hair. How about that.


End file.
